Rabbits

Rabbits are a species in Britain that can often be overlooked. They are a common site across much of the country but their fortunes have risen and fallen considerably over the generations.

Its is believed the Rabbit that we know and love today was introduced to Britain by the Normans although the fossil record indicates that they had been present in prehistoric times but gone by the Neolithic. The Normans farmed them for fur and meat with warreners being appointed to look after the rabbit warrens.

The Rabbit is a survivalist and can thrive in a range of habitats as long as there is sufficient grass to eat and soil to burrow in to. Rabbits also have the ability to breed prolifically, the breeding season can be as long as from January to August and can produce a litter of between 3 and 7 kittens every 30 days. This amazing reproductive rate is important because lots of things love to eat them, they form the main diets of foxes, stoats and buzzards.

Such productivity brings them into conflict with farmers. In the 1950's in an effort to control rabbit numbers in Australia the myxoma virus was introduced to wild populations. This horrible disease internal bleeding and lesions on the eyes that blind them. Britain became infected in 1953 from France and began to devastate populations.

In the mid-1980's I remember you couldn't go anywhere in Warwickshire without stumbling over Rabbits, they positively filled the hedgerows and trackways. Then a contagion of myxamatosis whittled the numbers down to what we see today. Whilst the virus isn't a prevalent anymore outbreaks do occur and they are at risk from Rabbit Haemorrhagic Disease.

I took the pictures of the rabbits this weekend at Priory Park, here a stable population exists in the centre of town, multiple warrens are scattered across the parkland. Beloved by dog walkers the rabbits seem to have become accustomed to them and each year at this time it is possible to get quite close to the young rabbits.

They are obviously quite wary but on my bike they seemed less concerned and I was able to approach within a few feet. I was then able to observe them as the grazed on tender grass shoots. It was fascinating to watch the ears twitching. Twitching ears and noses are a common habit of rabbits but it was interesting to watch how they swivelled. As they turned their backs on me to eat their ears would turn round to keep fixed on me, listening for the slightest sound of movement.

A plethora of insects

As hoped the weather today was much improved for my day off. I had planned that if the weather was fine that I would head to Priory Park in Warwick to photograph butterflies. In areas of the park they leave the grass to grow and in patches thistles grow that attract all kinds of butterflies but nothing prepared me for wealth of insect life that awaited me.

I was distracted from my photography by the sheer number of butterflies present and there and then decided to make as best a count as I was able. This was quite difficult as you can imagine, its surprising how feisty some butterflies are chasing each other and ousting others from their perches but the following is a rough count of what was present.

Species	Number counted in one circuit of the patch
Small Skipper	68
Meadow Brown	19
Comma	1
Large White	1
Gatekeeper	1
Holly Blue	3
Tortoiseshell	1
Total	94

This is an amazing total for a 5 minutes count in such a small patch is due entirely to the councils efforts to allow the grass to grow and provide such excellent habitat.

Small Skipper

Gatekeeper

Small Skipper

Aside from butterflies there were a myriad of other insects and dutifully I tried to identify as many as I could they included:

Six-Spot Ladybirds, Honey Bees, White-tailed Bumblebees, Red-Tailed Bumblebees, Volucella hoverflies, Syrphus hoverflies, Helophilus hoverflies, (excellent site on Hoverfly ID). Dock bug. Green Bottle Fly and a few other as yet unidentified flies.

Late instar Dock Bug

Here is a short video clip, listen to the sounds it highlights the other residents.

As you could here aside from the lens on my camera focusing and the breeze on the microphone was the near consistent buzz of grasshoppers and crickets. I spent a little time rummaging through the grass to find out what was present and managed to identify 2 species: the Lesser Marsh Grasshopper and Roesell's Bush-Cricket. The later is a species that was only found in the south of the country 10 years ago but is now spreading ever northwards and was easily the most abundant of the orthoptera present. (Excellet Orthoptera ID site)

Lesser Marsh Grasshopper

Female Roesel's Bush-Cricket - note the ovipositor 

Roesel's Bush-Cricket

Whilst crawling about in the grass I also stumbled across a small common toad that quickly disappeared into the undergrowth. This added to the Rabbits I had seen earlier, the magpies, blackbird, pigeons,Green Woodpecker, Crows Blue Tits and Nuthatch,  that were calling in the trees and the Peacock butterfly I spotted as I left leads to a total species count of 28 for the 1hr 30mins of wildlife watching. 

The Wild Life

Some of you may be aware that I am currently reading George Monbiot’s book ‘Feral’. It’s a book I have been meaning to read for some time and although I know the central precepts of his thesis I am finding it interesting. In my youth I found Monbiot somewhat of a fool. I lauded his ambition and common sense but shook my head sagely as I read his ideas that seemed unwieldy and impractical in todays world. In recent years I have softened towards George and have begun to come round to his way of thinking and in particular his views on re-wilding, both of the wider ecology and ourselves.

I have yet to get the crux of George’s central point in the book; he is still building up the picture in a series of Bear Grylls like encounters, but something he did elude to was something I encountered today; the connection with wildlife and the outdoors. I am lucky, I grew up in a family that appreciated nature. Weekends were spent walking in the country and holidays were spent in this country in a caravan. Camping of an kind inevitably brings you closer to nature, even if it is just the mosquitoes in the gloom, the harvestmen on the ground sheet or the occasional frog in the welly. I therefore am one of those people comfortable with wildlife, I would go as far to say I am more comfortable with wildlife than I am with people. Sadly this isn’t true for all. I can recall meeting someone who on going to Wales saw their first ‘Wild’ Cow! Or the children I work with who cannot complete a Food Chain worksheet because they don’t know what the animals are on the sheet let alone what they eat.  I would like to stress that their lack of engagement is not to do with boredom or apathy merely circumstance. When I have taken classes out bug hunting or surveying nearly all light up and find themselves enthralled, the tadpoles in the pond are a particular favourite. It just took someone to take the time to explain to them what they were looking at. To turn over the stone revealing an ants nest and to show how the workers frantically worked to drag the eggs below ground.

In one of the early chapters George described searching for a certain place. Somewhere he found tranquil and energised him. For him it was in a canoe out in the sea in Cardigan Bay, Gannets above him and Mackeral beneath. My place is my local patch that I have visited weekly for the past 13 years, but I can get that same attachment, that moment of calm and awe at any moment.

This week is part of Butterfly Conservation's Big ButterflyCount

and I headed this morning to the local park that I knew would be good for Butterflies. With camera in hand I spent an hour coming the long grass chasing crickets, all of which turned out to be the southern invader Roesell’s Bush Cricket, and identifying butterflies. I paused to sit on a rock in the baking heat beside a brook. Here I watched as an Emperor Dragonfly hawked along its length and attacked the preening Banded Agrions. Whilst sat quietly a Peacock butterfly fluttered into view and made a beeline, well as much of a beeline as butterflies are able towards me. It alighted on my knee, its tongue outstretched probing my hairy legs. I assume scientifically it was attracted to the salt in my sweat but alongside that analytical thought came the engagement with the animal itself. I could gaze into its swirling eyes and watch as the tongue rolled and unrolled.

From this encounter I sought the shade and remembered a few lines in an old book that claimed that in the 1970’s the park had a colony of Common Lizards. I had tried to see if they still existed before but thought today’s heat might help. I sought out the old walls and fallen trunks that seemed likely spots. As I ventured down one of the mown strips in the grassland I came upon a mother with two five year olds sat in the shade of a tree. They each carried little fishing nets, the kind you buy from the seaside and were gleefully chasing butterflies in the vain hope of catching one. The mother called them together and showed them how to take a bark rubbing from the cherry tree that offered them protection. It was at that moment that I had one of ‘those’ moments. A moment of peace despite the squeals of children, the discarded beer can and the noise of the traffic only metres away. It was a realisation that despite the struggles we interested in nature conservation face we have a lot to be thankful for. We all need and should have a moment or place, ideally both that energise us before we are worn asunder by the reports and government decisions, somewhere that nature can touch our core. It was also reassuring that there were at least two more budding ecologists who knows what they could do now that their mother had taken the time to show them what was out there.